Little Inklings 2024

agony, I could feel hot tears running down my face as the finish line approached; the faster I dashed to the finish line, the sooner it would be over. The red and white of the finish line shone like a star, encapsulating my vision. I pumped my legs and strained forward. I saw a small gap between the Carrollton runners. I swiftly cut between, then, cutting off the lane of the girl in the back. With a fewmore tedious steps I overtook the girl in the front. I glimpsed at the stopwatch, 12:42 it read, so if I just hurried enough, I would beat my time. I struggled towards the end. In one final push. Using every ounce of energy I had left, I burst across the finish line. The second I crossed the stopwatch I saw it read 12:53. I crumbled to the ground. I landed in the soft grass lying in a heap - every breath I took used effort. My lungs stung andmy throat was parched, but pride filled me like a warm glow. I could not breathe, stand or walk, but the delight of racing a personal record made it feel like everything was okay. “Hey! Get off the ground,” I heard someone bark. “You are going to get run over.” I slowly picked myself off the ground, everymovement sending fresh shock waves through me. As I stood, every breath I took gave me a bit more strength. I practicallywaddled forward, trying to find water. As I desperately stumbled around, I heard someone behind me call out, “Here, take my water.” She shoved a little paper Gatorade cup intomy hands filled with ice-cold water. “Oh my gosh, thank you so much,” I managed to say under my breath. I gulped down the whole cup in mere seconds, savoring the fresh taste. She softly pushed me out of the chute into the open area outside the course. I looked at her racing uniform. It was black and red, and I had never seen her in my life, yet she had just treated me like a teammate. “You did so good!” she said, beaming at me. “Thank you so much, you did amazing too,” I replied. After making sure I had found my team tent, she walked away, going to find her friends. By now my breathing had slowed and I could barely feel my heart pounding in my chest. I slowly walked toward my tent, smiling in success. I thought to myself, “12:53 for 1.9 miles, and, on top of that, we beat Carrollton!” My first race ever was 16:45. In just one year I had reduced my time by almost 4minutes. For two seasons I had worked as hard as I possibly could, every day. I set my mind to cross country. The beauty of cross country is that no matter who you are, where you come from, or your experience, showing up and working hard will always make you better. Unlike other sports, cross country has nothing to do with how tall you are or how long you have been practicing. The only thing thatmatters is howmuchwork you put into each practice. Cross country unites individuals, teams, and even competitors. The shared experiences of cross country binds people together, the rewarding feeling at the end of a race, and the anxiety at the start of the race are all so relatable no matter your level or experience in the sport. No one runs cross country because they enjoy the suffering of a race. I run cross country to prove to myself that effort and time lead to success, to show myself that I can do hard things, and do themwell. I run cross country to find another family in the form of a team. In just a few months, I would start my 8th grade season again, ready to set another PR. I was ready to run, over and over again, pushingmy body to a new limit, crushing a new race, and I could barely wait. Hans Van De Kreeke ’28 49